


Mystery Dungeon, But Solved

by vehlek



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Friendship, Gen, LGBTQ, M/M, Sexual Humor, but nothing obscene or mean-spirited, cartoonish antics, episodic, humans are also here, just a fun ole romp y'all, small town big community, the whole rainbow, they just are i cannot explain it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlek/pseuds/vehlek
Summary: A smirk-ridden Pikachu fella and his lesbian Gardevoir sister move to the rural-ish, bustling Mystery Dungeon Town looking for strange adventures and mysterious neighbors, their small town dream. Their first challenge: joining a real-as-hell rescue team and getting their very own legend up and started! That don't go according to plan. Their next challenge: they don't have a backup plan, that was it. Damn.a.k.a. don't like the mystery dungeon formula? this is the fic 4 u, amiga[episode 1 complete][episode 2 complete]
Kudos: 8





	1. Gate's Open Y'all - Part 1 of 2

_Mystery Dungeon Town!!_ It’s a bustling village these days, some neighborly hamlet grown over the years from all kinds of folks mixed up together, pokemons and humans alike—a busy sort of small town full to the brim with the kind of adventures that just take some good ole fashioned stirring up to uncover, where every ole street surely hides its own secrets for the folks willing to go peeking under stones for ‘em. A town just waiting for the right folks to go peeking.

Please picture in your head right now the sound of plucking strings, as though some banjo twangs slowly so far over this scene—as just right now, two strangers step off the public transit of a rickety Bouffalant-drawn cart, some tiny cloud of dust billowing ‘round their feet as they take their first step together into what they surely know already to be the start of their very own adventure. The Bouffalant don’t bid them goodbye, as his big hooped headphones are playing their big house-trance mix loud enough he don’t have to hear his charges’ prattle anytime on the way, so as soon as these strangers are off the cart, he rattles on back down the road his own merry way.

Picture these strangers thusly: one of them a Pikachu, some little yellow fella with a roguish grin as smart as the flashy red bandana tied ‘round his neck. Beside him, a Gardevoir lass four and a half times or so taller than he, poised exactly like how you already picture them Gardevoirs just naturally maintain, wearing that genuine smile like she understands the same adventure about to unfold here.

This Pikachu swipes a thumb over his nose, looking surely quite cool doing so, and without looking up he says, “Bar first?”

And this Gardevoir glances down his way, and she nods, hums some affirmative little “Mhm!”

Now the kind of place this town looks like, that spirit it’s wearing on its brick and plaster sleeve—walking down this wide main street, it’s got that short, huddled look of homely houses bunched up all side by side, no space for alleys or yards to squeeze between. Got that western sort of color set to the paint around here, muted and sunburnt, like might be in some desert town if not for those green oak canopies sprawling out from behind plenty of roofs in sight.

Might be a small town, and it surely is, but there ain’t no place here for neighbors to get away with not saying hello as they pass by on their errands or their work, and as our strangers travel down this way, there’s no less ’an three such folks peering back and staring at them as they pass, checking these newcomers they ain’t met just yet.

Town like this, already downright cozy, it don’t take no time finding the watering hole in.

‘Bout a minute more, the Gardevoir’s the one pushing open some old-timey saloon doors, and the Pikachu just mosies on in beside her, not even scraping his ears under that fresher red paint gussied on them doors above him.

Now, there’s some folks lounged in here already at their chosen tables or hunched over the bar counter, course, and they’re just a mix of the kind you might find anywhere. There’s some grumpy Cacturne, some Electabuzz grumbling beside her, a Drowzee and a Ribombee both half gone, some Sirfetch’d off in the corner just sipping so far—that’s them sort. On the other side of the counter serving all them sorts, there’s the tavernkeep lady, some human woman with her hair tied up nice and neat, healthy and a little stocky, a look in her like Asian, could be Malay or thereabouts but that’s her business, but she’s wearing one of them ruffly work dresses with poofy short sleeves you only do find in such a rural town as so.

She’s where our strangers stroll their way up to, the Pikachu climbing his way on up a stool of his own and making himself comfortable, sprawling an elbow over the bar and his grin all the way across it. He gives this tavernkeep the _look_. That mirror-practiced kind. Whatever you picture, that’s surely the one.

Gardevoir stands beside him, both their luggage loaded up in an old sky blue hardshell suitcase clutched in both her hands. She don’t settle just yet, just smiles that same direction as the Pikachu, a kind of smile that looks much more pleasantly natural.

Tavernkeep gives her littler customer a look back first, but she takes a good glance between ‘em both before a second. She’s wiping the insides of some big stein, and that’s what she keeps doing.

So this Pikachu clears his throat, and when he speaks, it’s something like a squeak affected down to gravelly. With that _look_ going on.

“You’re probably wondering why such mysteriously good-looking strangers such as the two of ourselves just sauntered into your establishment, eh, ma’am?”

He pushes his paw closer over the bar, wiggles his tiny digits like an invitation for contact. Tavernkeep don’t oblige.

“But you don’t have to wonder,” that Pikachu says. He wiggles some more. “I’ll let you in on our secret.”

The Gardevoir of the two does rest their suitcase on the floor now, clasps her hands together in front of her real ladylike and all that whatnot. But that Pikachu’s got some spiel left to go.

“We’ve just arrived in town from the big city, y’see, and we’re looking for a very specific place for our very specific set of skills. Someplace like… a _rescue team_. —‘s headquarters.”

Tavernkeep sets down her stein and she says, “You aren’t actually buying a drink, are you?”

“Oh, methinks that part depends,” the Pikachu chuckles. “Can you mix an Irish Car Bomb?”

“No.”

“Then also no.”

About now the Gardevoir pipes up, gestures her pointer finger in the air with a question toward the tavernkeep: “What about a Hurricane? Like the drink, like, rum, vodka, orange juice…”

“No.”

Gardevoir lowers her finger quick, says even quicker, “Okay.”

Pikachu shores himself up on his stool and waves his paw through the air like dismissing something, pshawing it. He says, “Hey now, you’re a busy, beautiful lady, we get it. We won’t be in your hair too long here. Not unless I… might be reading you wrong?”

“You’re not.”

“Okay, not a problem,” he says some more, holding his paws up in surrender. “Message received. You’re saying no, and I hear it loud and clear. And prolly you’ll come around so whatevs it’s cool.”

“I definitely—”

“ _So_ are any rescue teams hiring around here, ma’am? Is my question. Which we can pay for with getting one little drink, if you insist the need be.”

“Doubt it. Haven’t heard they needed any more bodies.”

This Pikachu grins at her ‘bout three seconds more before his lips turn to sucking air a second longer. But his tone don’t change from smooth as silk as he asks, “And where might we find some rescue teams to manually confirm that, would you know…?”

“You came here without looking that up first?”

“Technically that’s accurate.”

Tavernkeep takes herself a deep breath here. She rolls her eyes and don’t hide that. But she says, “The mayor is in charge of rescue hires. Facing out from my door, her office is the first right, then another right. Then keep going down that way. You’ll probably see it.”

Pikachu smiles big and slaps the counter extra hard like _got it!_ And most the whole tavern including both his Gardevoir companion and the tavernkeep jumps, ‘cause that’s not the sort of thing you actually do, little fella. Pretty rude.

“Message received, indeed!” he says anyway. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. We’ll go see about our business there, but depending on how things go, maybe we’ll find the time to stop by again sometime soon, really kick our feet up.”

Tavernkeep don’t say nothing about “please do” or some such. Just settles back again and frowns small enough that she can’t be bothered. And this Pikachu strums his digits and wiggles his eyebrows toward her a last time before he sorts himself back on down the stool, mosies himself back the way he came.

He does that, now, but the Gardevoir stays put just a little longer here. She picks their suitcase up just as quiet and quaint as she set it down, but leans in over the bar for herself, whispers to the tavernkeep, “If you turned him down because you’re gay, and he’s a boy, and you’re a really pretty girl who’s not into boys, I’d be happy to listen to your troubles about all the inconsiderate men hitting on you when all you want is for them to leave you alone because you only like women.”

She smiles big and bright and pearly white as she just possibly can, eyes shining.

Tavernkeep says, “About all I’d like right now is for you to help pay my bills.”

Gardevoir shuts up and soaks that in.

“You mean, like… _sharing_ bills…?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

No, all right, yeah, this Gardevoir turns back that same way toward them swinging doors too. She’s the one taking a hint pretty good.

But just before she or that Pikachu push them doors back open, or otherwise get to leaving, the tavernkeep calls out, “Hey.”

Both these strangers turn back, and the tavernkeep folds her arms peaceably.

“Are you two sticking around town?”

It’s the Gardevoir of the two strangers who replies, “We sure want to, if we can get rescue jobs.”

Tavernkeep got the look in her eye like she’s holding back from rolling them again, but she sighs, and she says like angling to get two new regulars later after all, “What’s your names?”

The Pikachu of the two smirks real good, swipes his thumb over his nose, poses into crossing his arms with the afternoon sun glinting over his shoulder. He don’t say nothing, rather gives this excellent moment to his compatriot, and she smiles warm and extra friendly again.

“My name’s Sex Machine!” she just about chirps. “Or Sexy for short. And this is my big brother Call Me Maybe. Thank you again for the directions, miss! Wish us luck!”

“Uh-ah-ah,” this Call Me Maybe fella says with three tuts of his paw. “Don’t wish us that. We won’t need it.”

Tavernkeep makes this real thin line with her lips. She don’t give a goodbye after all. She’s got some other stein to polish.

But for Sexy and Maybe, they push them swinging doors open, and it’s back out into the wild new yonder for them, wherever their adventure takes them next.

And some few steps back out in the street, balancing that suitcase along in both her hands, Sexy says, “She was kind of out of your league, anyway.”

Maybe pshaws again, fiddles his bandana straight after all that shuffling about up and down the stool.

“Well our Mom is outta our Dad’s league, but here I am. Sometimes you just gotta shoot your shot.”

Sexy don’t say nothing to that, but she mutters with a queerer smile fading on her lips, “But I guess that means she was out of my league anyway, too….”

Don’t take ‘em no more time than that to get a move on, and barely longer than that is finding the first right, then another right they take toward—some little market district down this way, looks like. Got more signs and nameplates printed up over the businesses and open-gate storefronts as they pass, and most the buildings are a floor taller for homes sittin’ above the stores, plenty of space to live and work no matter the work. Got that shopper’s ambience here, surely, sounds of chatting and haggling from down most the street as Maybe and Sexy weave somewhat around these other pedestrians about their business.

And there’s even a printing press down this way, look at that! Maybe and Sexy both stop to gawk at that a minute, just getting a look. It’s about the biggest operation on this street they can see, not just some skinny shop but a big wide garage-looking interior full to the brim with some well-loved industrial printers, and the big ole gate out front’s rolled up so it’s all on open display while a few technical workers tend these machines, not minding nobody watching.

Now it’s a neat sight to be sure, but there just ain’t enough there to gawk at more than a minute. So Sexy’s the first to turn back toward the street, looking around some more—until Maybe taps her shin, pauses her.

He’s looking next to the presses.

Right beside, there’s some office entrance—a newspaper’s, looks like, some scratch-marked glass and metal door leading inside with some kid-made paper decorations taped up near the top of the glass, real small-town sort of charming. “MDT Sunday Bugle Offices,” what it says on the sign above the door.

And right underneath that sign there’s some littler one put up that reads “また、町長の事務所 ↓”, and one last littlest sign right underneath that one that reads in one long scrawled line “ALSO MAYOR’S OFFICE ↓”, and it don’t look nearly as legible that small as it must so appear here.

Well, Sexy squares right back up after all and Maybe fixes his bandana real straight again, pulls them little creases tighter so they don’t show so much. Him in particular, don’t got that sense he’s playing around no more. Time for business.

“How do I look?”

Sexy looks him down, and she just kind of…

“Like a boy?”

“Like a _boy in_ —charge…? Like a—forget it, I’m know I’m lookin’ good,” Maybe mutters, and his grin’s already coming back up good and smug.

He gets the door this time—braces his feet, takes a breath, hops up real good and nabs that metal bar. Dangles from it a second, scrabbles his feet against the glass, don’t do nothing.

Hops back down. Points that grin up at Sexy.

“Gave it a shot. Your turn.”

She shuffles their suitcase into one hand again and pulls the door right open.

Just following the directions from one more list of nameplates by the skinny little stairwell that’s all there is inside leading to the offices, Maybe and Sexy both tromp up the two flights of creaky wood stairs to the very top floor, slow and loud. Pass by some real nicer-looking doors on the way, but up at the top, here’s where they want—Unit 3A. And this door’s already open.

Poking their heads in, it’s not even wider than the stairwell in here, kind of place must be tough finding somebody willing to rent it. Most either wall’s stuffed with filing cabinets, and sprawled on them is messy binders of every color available, messy as in some of the papers clipped inside weren’t laid just right so their crisp tips are poking out the binder’s sides every which way, so whatever them important documents may be, now they’re dogeared forever, ain’t no smoothing out ever goin’ fix ‘em later.

Middle of this little office there’s some tall scooted-open room divider hiding the far wall from view, and before that’s a cute little desk squeezed in between two such filing cabinets where a secretary-sort human’s got herself sat, somebody real put together, somewhat Caucasian, maybe a little bit of Turkic, by her look? Got these cheery dimples on show as she types away on some typewriter like secretary folk don’t do much these days just about anywhere.

Well, there’s some couple of spindly folding chairs shoved in the closest corner for visitors, at least, though nothing fit for wider-bodied pokemons if they ever come to visit. But Maybe and Sexy ain’t here to wait for reception.

Sexy pokes a hand in too, knocks on the door anyway. Secretary lady glances up at her and her big brother both, then looks right on back down toward her typewriter business. She holds up a pointer finger to the visitors real quick before darting it back down.

“ _One_ moment, please, just finishing this scene.”

She tippy-taps a bunch more, just a few seconds, and—grins to herself, pulls her hands back into twining ‘em nice and neat, switches to looking up more pleasant at Maybe and Sexy both.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

Don’t let that stop him—Maybe pulls a fist to his mouth and clears his throat, steps right inside ahead of Sexy now.

“We’re here to see the mayor,” he do declare. “We don’t have an appointment, but it’s about _rescue business_ , ma’am. Won’t take long, I’m sure.”

“ _Oh-h-h-h_ ,” this secretary says long and careful, like sort of curious, that kind of way. And she leans back in her squeaky swivel chair toward the room divider, and she knocks twice on that, rattling the whole thing. “Two visitors, mistress. Send them in?”

Not skipping a beat, it’s some real pristine voice coming from the other side that says calm and quick, “They may enter.”

Secretary lady smiles real professional back at Maybe and Sexy. “Y’all can go on in.”

It’s just—well it’s one little moment of hesitation, but okay, Maybe and Sexy get on that. Maybe at the lead, so he leads them ‘round this divider into the true office, the head honcho’s space—

It’s a card table. It’s a card table and another folding chair and that’s how the mayor’s got herself set up.

But besides that little touch, there’s a genuine copper nameplate sitting up front her table-desk—Mayor Akinyele Back, that says—and this mayor’s bent neatly over some real paperwork, scribbling between some big stacks of looseleaf documents on her either side while her massive floppy ears spill down beside her button-nose face. Just a glance up at her guests, and it’s clear pink irises spooled up in deep black eyes that meet their gazes, sharp and serious.

This here’s a Mega Lopunny. Her glowing mega stone’s sat right next to her nameplate.

Well, Maybe don’t let that sort of intimidating presence stop him. He speaks up real confident anyway, says, “Ma’am—”

“She said mayor.”

Maybe shuts it a second. Kind of halts. Mayor’s already looking back down at her papers, scribbling some more before really getting to it. So, uh, Sexy says for her and her big brother both, more not that confident, “Hanh?”

Mayor points back through the divider with her available hand. “My assistant. You misheard her a moment ago. She said ‘mayor.’”

Nowhere for guests to sit over on this side of the office, so Maybe and Sexy both mostly just stand there, not thinking much of how to respond now. So Maybe says, “Oh.”

“Mhm,” mayor says. She uncrosses her legs from under her table-desk and just crosses ‘em back the other way, giving her tights-lookin’ right leg a turn on top. And now she sets her pen down, looks up at her guests proper. “What had you been saying? Continue, please.”

Well that regains their senses. Sexy pulls herself up as straight as is relatively possible for her, and Maybe cools back off and lifts his voice, squeaking real smoother now, “Right, that! Y’see, Mayor Back—”

“Mayor Akinyele.”

“—Mayor Akinyele, you can call me Maybe. This is my sister—she’s Sexy. We’ve just arrived in your fair town, ma’am, and a little birdie told us that you’re the one who—”

“It was a human, actually,” Sexy adds.

“—Okay well yes, a human lady told us that you’re the honcho to see about something very important to us: _rescue_ business. You’re the management, right? The boss. For hiring on new rescuers.”

Mayor stares them both down.

“That would be me, yes.”

Maybe opens his yap to keep talking, but the mayor holds up one authoritative finger to stop him. She’s not done.

“You want to join a rescue team?”

She lowers the finger and motions back toward Maybe, clasping her hands over her paperwork now.

Well, Maybe says, “That’s absolutely right, ma’am. We’re ready to accept the heavy responsibility and the very genuine danger that comes with a job like that. We’ve trained for it! We’re ready.”

Mayor just blinks. Stares. She’s one of them stoic ones.

“Why?”

Maybe chuckles, crosses his tiny arms real smug and good. He nods up toward his little sister, says, “You explain.”

Sexy says, “We’ve always thought it sounded really neat! Ever since we were children.”

And she don’t say nothing else. But her smile’s a gem.

Maybe says, “Okay, I’ll explain.”

He clears his throat again, raises a lazy paw and swirls it around like gesturing real clever, and he says, “Ma’am—”

“Mayor.”

“—Mayor, my sister and I grew up back in the big city. It’s where we’re from. But that’s not our blood, not really. Ever since we were little tykes, we’ve had a purpose burning in us that we could only do something about in a small town like yours, someplace with mystery, with _danger_ , where it takes real training and a true willingness to risk—”

“Nyit. No. Start over.”

Mayor shuts him up with a gesture, too, lifting her hands beside either of her long floppy ears.

“It’s going, just—in one ear and out the other. Too many words. Let’s get to the point.”

Maybe takes a deep breath, okay. Ain’t no problem. He cools his jets just what he needs and says clearer, “We want to make a difference with our lives, mayor. We trained at an accredited dojo back in the city, and we’re ready to face the danger that joining a rescue team brings. We want that chance! We can take it.”

“We’re also college-educated!” Sexy says. “Maybe didn’t bring his resume, he said he wouldn’t need it, but I did just in—no? Is that a no…?”

Mayor’s expression don’t much change, staring down Sexy right now. But then she stares down Maybe, and it still don’t change, but at the same time it’s a real firm look she’s giving him.

“You kept saying ‘danger.’”

Now she narrows her eyes.

“As though you have any idea what kind of danger we face here.”

Maybe holds his grit, and Sexy gulps a real lump down her throat.

Just as calm as she do, the mayor says, “There are only two rescue teams left in my town. The rest have disbanded. I suppose word doesn’t reach the city so often of what we face out here, so close to the wild—the two teams we have left are the _only_ ones capable of withstanding the monotony of the job.”

Maybe blinks now. Sexy says for the both of them a little higher pitched this time, “Hanh?”

“There is zero danger here,” mayor says. “Extremely none. In our town, the most that rescue teams usually have to do is rescue all of the cat pokemon who scramble up trees chasing god knows what, and then they look down and they see how far they’ve climbed, and they sob and they cry and they scream, ‘I have no idea how this happened, it’s a great mystery, please save me!’ Again. Three times this week and counting, that ridiculous child.”

Maybe licks one dry lip and stutters, “Well, okay, um, what—what about the wild? Dangers out in the wild?”

“What about them?”

“Are there any there?”

“No.”

Maybe purses his lips. He could be staring dead into the mayor’s eyes or right through ‘em, hard to tell. Sexy opens her mouth a second, says—nothing really, can’t figure it out either. She zips it, twiddles her fingers around the handle of their suitcase.

But the mayor brightens her tone real quick now. “But if joining a rescue team is your goal, that’s fine. I have room for you both in the town budget. Approved.”

There’s still a waver to his frown, but Maybe catches up to that quick, snaps to it. “Oh—really? I mean, yeah, that’s what we want! But, I mean, when you say ‘usually’ have to do…?”

That slant to his brow, too, the mayor sees that. She says more casual, “There are actual missions to complete as well, occasionally. I can’t think of any of those off the top of my head, but we keep teams on hand exactly for such. Someday you’ll provide a civic service if you keep with it.”

All right, well, Maybe ponders. He clicks his tongue, looks to the floor, looks up to his little sister. Gives her that anxious kind of frown, more like…

“We do, right…?”

“We’d still like to join a rescue team, yes!” Sexy do declare as well, squeezing their suitcase tight, baring down her most focused look across that table-desk. “Thank you very much, Mayor Akinyele! Where should we go to—meet our new teammates, or something like that?”

Mayor’s already leaning back in her chair and stretching her back real graceful, wincing and humming through it a second. But then she says, “ _Mm_? Mm. Regarding that, I suppose you two should join… Rescue Team Beethoven, I think. Fewer complications with them. It’s a short way there, but I don’t wish you to make a wrong turn—”

Leaning forward normal again, now the mayor closes a fist and raps on the room divider with the back of her knuckles, shaking it real bad.

“Miss Down In It? Write them directions to Beethoven’s headquarters, if you would, pet.”

Some ‘nother hum comes from the other side, then the little noises of some typewriter bits clanking and paper _r-r-r-ipping_ away off it and some fresh tippy-tapping from them keys—sounds like Maybe and Sexy got their directions coming. But they don’t really—just can’t figure out what they’re supposed to say or do next, sort of looks on their faces.

So Maybe, he just kind of says, “Should we… get that from her? Just grab that from her, and… should we go?”

“Mhm,” mayor says, settling herself back in already for wrangling her documents, writing down sumpin ‘nother important in ‘em. Ain’t looking back up to her guests no more.

Except right when Maybe and Sexy both turn again for slipping around this divider, getting a move on—

“I didn’t call her that. You’re incorrect.”

They pause, both look back to the mayor with—still not sure what look to make, about. Mayor only glances back over at them between scribbling.

“I’m somewhat concerned with your hearing, at this point,” she says, swirling a finger by one floppy ear. “You keep hearing things. It’s concerning. It concerns me.”

Just can’t figure out nothing more to say to that.

Mayor gets back to her papers, anyway. Not looking up again, she says just as plain, “Oh well. Enjoy our humble town’s hospitality, we all hope you’ll love it here. Do tell your friends. Ta ta.”

Like that—that’s about it.

Grab that paper the secretary lady hands to ‘em with a smile, wave some polite goodbye, clomp on down them stairs back out onto the busy street, and there’s some faint buzzing noise in the air now from those printing presses beside.

But out here, back under the sun, they don’t really get a move on nowhere else just yet.

Muggy out here, did they notice that before? Getting muggy.

Maybe’s the one hanging on to this crisply-typed sheet of paper, giving it a look-see, and there just ain’t no excited look he can give this thing as he reads down it.

Sexy holds on to their suitcase in both hands again, just clutching it for something to do with her fingers, looking down at her big brother with an expression like she’d rather something else be cheering them on about now, too.

Well, she musters some positive tone anyway.

“I guess it’s not that way in stories…” she starts, “but I feel like in real life, at least, the grandest adventures really do come to those who—who, um, like—I mean, come to those who want them, but not just want them, like—I mean—”

Stumbles through the kind of pause she don’t mean, and her lips stutter through all shapes looking for the words.

“More like—you know? The kind of people who are really willing to, um, wait patiently? But not just wait for them, that’s not what I mean. The grandest kind of adventures, um, for those who aren’t expecting them—well, more like—it, um….”

A tiny paw pats against her knee, how high it can reach, and that’s Maybe. Sexy halts, and Maybe looks back up to her with something like a wry smirk, some softened brotherly _now that’s my sister_.

“Adventures don’t just get mailed out,” he squeaks all gravelly, like there’s a higher spirit back in his voice. “We gotta go and find them ourselves.”

Sexy’s whole face perks back up, no mustering about it.

“Right!”

And Maybe grins. Like he’s just full of himself again, just like he should be, he offers his open paw up toward his little sister and says, “Shall we?”

And Sexy droops her own grin back down some, says, “Well, no, that’d—I’m not a Kirlia anymore, big brother, that would just strain my back now.”

“ _Right_ ,” Maybe says just as confident, withdrawing that offer. He smacks his paws over his hips and swings on his tiny heel back toward the street. “Let’s just—okay then. Let’s go.”

And just like that, _they’re off!!_

With Maybe leading their way, they trot on down several more roads following this personal sort of treasure map, winding their way down main streets and then side streets until they’re surely not in the center of town no more, and pretty soon they’re pattering past the last of these bunched-together shops and apartments into a wider sort of space.

Right here, what stretches before them is a wide open field. The outskirts. Just one giant oak tree sprawls out nearby from the side of this bumpier dirt road ahead, and still off in the distance is what farmland belongs to the town, not too far off, but a couple farmhouses and the phone lines trailing off toward ‘em are all the structures or objects they spy yonder. Nothing headquarters-lookin’ nowhere.

Here, as brother and sister both putter down to the pace of a leisurely stroll, Maybe lifts and lowers his gaze between the field and their directions, narrowing as he goes.

“…’left at the blue-brick apartment, then continue on straight for forty meters until you’re at the big tree past town. You have now reached your destination,’” he reads off real careful.

He and Sexy both stroll to a stop right below this tree, all right, and the both of them look around pretty empty about here. With nothing else to see, Maybe glares right on up this massive thing’s trunk.

“Unless they set up shop in some kind of treehouse, these directions are borked.”

“Oh, what if they did?” Sexy says. “That’d be… neat, at least. Maybe they really did? The only other thing I see here is this lemonade stand—wait a minute.”

“Oh _goddammit_.”

Well, technically, there is also a little lemonade-lookin’ stand next to the tree, yup, one nice shady branch hanging over it. And now that either of them are paying this thing any attention, there’s some block text written on the front of it, little placard hanging at the end for the last word of it, and that reads, “The Rescue Team Is [Out]”.

Sexy peers dead on at that stand and its sign a long time, just like Maybe does. Long time. But then Sexy bursts alive again saying, “ _Oh-h-h-h_ , I get it! It’s a reference, Maybe, I get this one—”

And just now, just loud enough to interrupt her, there’s some other voice piping up from behind these two, something naturally lower, a friendly sort of voice that don’t take no affectation to get it that low.

“Hello there? Uncommon that we get visitors, and I haven’t seen you two around town before. Do you need some rescue help?”

Maybe and Sexy turn back toward the road, and here approaching them is not one but three folks ambling down their way—and by the sight of them it’s a queer group to be sure, thank god.

Walking at this party’s left is a Lucario, long flat tongue lickin’ on an ice cream cone he’s got held up high enough for somebody else to be lickin’ the same, a tiny li’l Joltik hanging on his shoulder. On the right is a Spinda, this fella struck with a long old scar down one eye, downright cinematic, although it’s somehow—it ain’t clear if that eye… works, if it still works, or not, somehow…? Or it don’t…?

But on their approach, it is exactly this Spinda smiling broad and gentlemanly at their visitors, another ice cream clutched more leisure-like in his paw, and he’s the one whose mouth ain’t full of a big lick of it just now.

So Maybe squares up, takes a deep breath. And he takes one step ahead of Sexy toward this new group, and now he’s the one do declaring again, “We’re not looking for any help, sir—we’re looking to help. Just came from the mayor’s, and we’re here to sign on with you! She said yes.”

None of these three much react to that. Nonplussed, the look they all got. But a second for it to soak in, and that Lucario in particular frowns, rubs his free hand over his neck like _shucks_. More country-boy tone, or some cosmopolitan mixed in there, he’s the one who swallows down his licking and speaks up now.

“Oh, I’m sorry… this isn’t a lemonade stand we’re running, you see. We’re actually a rescue team.”

Maybe keeps his grin up and, uh—peeks up at Sexy, who just shrugs back down at him. So he just grins back toward the party of three. “ _Mmm_ -hm? Right. That.”

“ _Right_ , that,” the Lucario repeats slower, lifting an eyebrow. “We’re not the viable business we look like. We’re just a rescue team. We can’t hire you to sell lemonade because we don’t sell any ourselves. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Just to himself Maybe mutters, “Oh it’s like a bit, no, I get it now. Okay. No I get it. It’s good. Good one.”

And Sexy bends down a few inches closer, saying just to her big brother, “I don’t get it.”

Well, louder again, Maybe crosses his little arms and says to everybody, “ _Yes_ , thank you, we want to _join_ your _rescue team_ , is the end of the joke, is the thing that I’m saying. We got credentials, permission, and we are horny for teamwork, there’s a frickin’ reference for you. All good?”

By the face he makes, reality now dawns upon this Lucario. Goes from this quick awe to this big ole friendly smile, but beside him, that Spinda takes back up the conversin’ mantle.

“Truly?” he says, just this real pleasant depth to his tone. “Well, that’s quite a treat. I’ll be honest, it doesn’t happen very often.”

Just this small tic to his grin, but Maybe says, “I definitely believe you.”

Don’t notice no hostility between nobody, so the Spinda steps on up and offers the paw of his not dripping ice cream down his knuckles. He says, “My name is Legend Has It. As its leader, allow me to welcome you to Rescue Team Beethoven. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss and Mister…?”

Maybe shakes paws first. “Call Me Maybe! Or just call me Maybe. We plan to make waves around here, so we’re ready to work hard.”

“I’m Sexy,” Sexy says, leaning farther down and taking the Spinda’s paw next. “Sex Machine, technically. I’m his sister! Nice to meet you… is just Legend okay?”

“I prefer it,” Legend says. Quicklike he motions back toward his companions with the paw holding his cone, splatting both its scoops into the dirt. “The tall strapping one here is my gorgeous husband Death Yon, and that’s our dear teammate A Pearl. It was only the three of us before you two came, so you’ve now met the whole team.”

That Lucario, meanwhile, ambles on around everybody and flips their little placard proper over to “[In]”. Then he stands back tall, offers a single cheery wave to Maybe and Sexy with that great big smile of his. “Just Yon, here!”

And that li’l Joltik skitters around over onto Yon’s other shoulder, keeping up a long look at these newcomers, particularly Sexy, and now she speaks up with this mild squeak she don’t affec-tate none. “And I’m—well, he said that already, so, um, nice to meet you, I’m Pearl! I mean, but he already—okay never mind.”

Her eyes don’t wander too comfortably as she sucks on her tiny lip, ponders her choices a second—’til she thinks to say toward Maybe, “Oh, I liked your frickin’ reference!”

“Thank you ma’am, ‘s a little cliquey but I feel good about it,” Maybe sniffs. And at Legend, he says, “So what’s left on the agenda? The rescue agenda? What do we… what’s left today, what’s the plan?”

“Nothing much now,” Legend says. But he ho-hums, too, thinks it over a little careful a second. “The most we usually have to do is decide someplace nice to brunch, if we feel appropriately boujee for it, or else just get a snack, as so today.”

“ _Well_ ,” Pearl squeaks again, looking away bashful somewhat from Sexy now, “on weekends I work over at the used book store, too, so. If you… read much, I mean, then that’d be where—I’m there, too.”

To that, Yon pipes back in and says, “And she’s got great recommendations, even the weird ones. Classic bookworm!”

“–spider,” Sexy whispers.

Missing that line of talk, seems, Legend at least don’t get distracted none from what’s on his mind as he offers over his cone between Maybe and Sexy with that same gentlemanly smile. “Speaking of it, I wasn’t likely to finish this anyway if either of you—dear god, it’s _gone_ …!”

And he retreats his cone for sudden investigation, so Yon perks up again in his stead, says, “But hey, that’s not all we do—sometimes we snack, and sometimes we spar! When the mood’s right. Pearl doesn’t like sparring with me very often, so if either of you are up for a round, I am. Now or anytime.”

Oh, see, Maybe’s grin fades quick at that idea—and a smirk replaces it. He squats his little legs just that bit lower without bothering saying nothing. Don’t need to say nothing.

Sexy keeps smiling just perfectly nice, don’t seem to get involved in this one, or else even notice the invitation.

And Yon—he smiles slimmer too, more focused, circles back onto the road across from the newbies. Pearl—she more like rolls her eyes just a little, springs off his shoulder over onto the rescue stand while she still can. And Legend’s already out the way from between everybody, retracing his steps toward the other direction from that comin’ battlefield.

“I like that expression,” Yon says as he crouches deeper. “It tells me you’re ready in the only way that matters. That’s good! Show me what you can do.”

And beside Maybe, Sexy raises one hand flat and psychic rocket-blasts Yon in an instant, blows him down half the road toward them farmhouses in the distance, tumbling and rolling and pluming up big ole clouds of dirt the whole way he goes until he lands in a giant dusty heap, like a cuter sort of bomb gone off.

Uncommon look of surprise all over Maybe’s face, staring through the path of dust and debris, before he turns that look up at Sexy, smiling all dandy at her work, wrapping both hands down ‘round their suitcase again.

Turning that look into a big ole frown, Maybe either squeaks or hollers too, “What the hell, what was that for? I was fighting him!”

Sexy pouts all of a sudden now, just some. “Oh… it wasn’t a two-on-one?”

“ _No_ it wasn’t a two-on-one, how is that fair?”

“I thought he was—it seemed like he was implying it, right? Like ‘I can take you both on’…?”

Maybe gawks up at her and lifts his paws up by his head like _how could you think like how you’re thinking_ , and Sexy looks back toward the road, calls out down to Yon, “Sorry!”

But Yon picks himself back up just fine way over there. Pushes up off his butt, dusts his shoulders, calls back, “No, fair enough, uh, I didn’t specify who I meant should show me what they could do! I’m okay…!”

“Well, look at that. Good to know it’s two more fighters we have on the team,” Legend chuckles from behind, just nibbling now at his damp empty cone as he comes back. “Don’t worry about Yonny, he’s quite durable—he has me well outmatched in that regard.”

And meanwhile to that, Pearl’s keeping an eye the other way from the action, something else catching her senses. And wait a second, is it—? By golly, it is.

Real cute for how much of a squeak it still is, Pearl looks back to the rest of the team and hollers, “Hey! We might have something to do today after all, look!”

Don’t take convincing for everybody to turn that way the same, spy someone else coming through town right toward ‘em.

Just puttering out now past the last of them closest apartments is a Pelipper on some sleek little motor scooter, kicking up a new little dust trail behind himself as he scoots along, and this fella’s machine is painted red white and blue with a logo spelled out down the side in two separate lines, a thick ole “INSTANT MESSAGE SERVICES LLC.” Got a little burlap satchel packed on the rack behind him, that kind for carrying hidden goodies.

Seeing that all on the way, Sexy smiles real big and turns down toward Maybe, lifting her pointer finger high like she’s—

“Not mail!” Maybe says, folds his arms. “Doesn’t count.”

This Pelipper throttles to a slow by the rescue stand, anyway, right specifically by Legend. Not saying nothing, doesn’t care that much, but the bird flips his satchel open and takes his good time rummaging through what little’s in it before he flips a single envelope out, hands that down.

Yon jogs back ‘bout just in time, and as that Pelipper’s scooting his little mobile back ‘round and puttering up to speed back into town, Legend hands this envelope on up to his hubby, who slits it open on his chest spike and hands it right back down.

Everybody gathers ‘round for this. Pearl springs back on up Yon’s shoulder to get a look, and Sexy comes up behind Legend’s other side to read with him. Maybe ain’t tall enough even to read over a shoulder, so… he don’t do that, mostly just waits, frowns.

“ _Ahem_ ,” Legend begins, “‘Dear Rescue Team Beethoven: Help, I am trapped in the mines, help. Please come quickly in order to save me. It is so scary down here. Help.’”

Pregnant pause sort of thing after he’s finished reading. That’s it.

And a little too excited for such dire news, just perhaps, Yon’s the one smiling real big, and he do declare for the whole team assembled, “It’s a _rescue mission_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired wholly by that gif that i cannot find the source of anymore with the pikachu hitting on the lady and her not taking none of it, there is my inspiration, it is not nebulous
> 
> ty for reading and pls do not look up the song names they are secretly not all T-rated so pls do not look them up if your ears are young and innocent and if you only like the first half of Love Again then you are a coward


	2. Gate's Open Y'all - Part 2 of 2

_Mystery Dungeon Town!!_ There’s more to this busy village than pretty houses and friendly streets. It’s out on the west side of the town map, away from the fields, where there’s some deep, craggy hills leading out toward the mountain range, sort of place local kids dare each other ‘bout for how little the older folks go there no more. Ain’t hospitable this far out. This part of town—this is the wild.

Here in the slopes of these foothills, there’s a mine. Just the one entrance. But that mine goes deep, it goes far, and it goes down them splitting sorts of paths, more and more forks in the tunnels the farther folks venture. No, ain’t hospitable that deep down.

“That’s the sort of reputation this place had back when the town was founded, anyway,” Yon says. “But a couple of decades’ work got all the tunnels mapped out great. Now we’ve got a mining operation going down there—lot of heavy metals in these hills, turns out! They’re an important export for our economy.”

Classic ensemble pose right in front of that mine’s entrance, Death Yon taking the center with a smile on his face and his paws on his hips. Call Me Maybe stands to Yon’s left, crossing his arms and his brow both, and Sex Machine stands to Yon’s right, still carrying their suitcase and smiling right along. Legend Has It is still back at base doing paperwork, administration, he said, and A Pearl—she’s hitched a ride on Yon’s shoulder the whole way over, too, but she’s more peeking over toward Sexy than the maw of this mine.

Well, that’s about Yon’s little explanation done, so Maybe looks up to him and says, “So it’s not really that dangerous, and people don’t really get lost in there anymore. That’s what you’re saying?”

Yon laughs. “Some people still get lost! They get the urge to do some personal exploring and don’t bring a map. Usually a miner helps them back out, but miners doesn’t always find them very fast.”

“And so that’s the case we face on our rescue mission today?”

“Looks like it!”

“And may I ask one more question at this juncture, before we begin?”

“Please do!”

“How did our rescue client get a letter to us…?”

Yon don’t answer immediately.

So Sexy pipes in, leaning around Yon and giggling, “Um, Pelipper? You saw how!”

And so Maybe elaborates, “How did our client, trapped in a mine, get that letter _out_ to us?”

It’s a sight to be sure, Yon frowning here. Sighing, not laughing. He don’t look so self-assured now as Sexy still do.

“I’ll be very honest, Call Me,” he says, “I’ve been thinking over the same thing, and… it’s a little suspicious.”

“Okay well—it’s just Maybe.”

Oh, Yon brightens right back up at that, diverts his full attention. “Really? I think Cally might be cutest! What do you think?”

“ _Okay listen_ —what’s our plan going in? Are we gonna—you and Pearl are the experts, do you already have a system here, already have a plan how to handle this, a formation to take?”

Yon snaps with his thumb-toe and index toe and he grins, gets it back together. “Ah, strategy! I like that kind of talk, too. Pearl, you want a chance to explain this one?”

Takes a second for response, but that li’l spider glances back quick enough, says, “Hm? Oh! Yes, okay.”

She turns toward the boys and clears her throat, shakes out her jitters and whatnot, slaps a couple tiny legs over her cheeks. Little clearer now, determined, she says, “Okay, all right. Informed by past experience, I’d say this is our best option: we go in there, we get our client out, there is no other part of the strategy that’s it.”

Maybe gives her a long ole look, don’t suggest nothing better. But Sexy says, “Succinct!”

“Right?” Pearl says, turning quick back to her. “It’s practically our motto: ‘Keep it simple for the people who don’t follow along very well to longer courses of action, please.’”

“No, for real, I’ll say it like this: is it actually possible we may be walking into some kind of trap here?” Maybe says. “Like, the letter is a ploy, and we’re walking into something? Do we have a contingency plan for that?”

Yon grins. “Don’t worry, Maybe, we _are_ the contingency plan!”

“Okay well that’s not—”

And Yon slaps his paws back on his hips real sudden, startling his littler teammate up a second, and he takes two steps forward, swivels on one heel back toward everybody. Puffs his chest out, and he says, “Whatever’s going on, we’ve got all we need to face it: our team, and our plan. Let’s get in there!”

Sexy pulls a hand from the suitcase and balls it into a raised fist, cheering, “Yeah!”

Pearl pumps just one tiny li’l leg the same, cheering, “Yeah, what she— _yeah-h-h_ …!”

Maybe says, “Okay.”

And so _the adventure begins!!_

Them first few steps inside the mine, as Yon takes the lead, it’s not too dark or dreary just yet. The tunnel’s not so generous for how wide it could be, a little claustrophobic instead, but wire-caged lights are strung along wooden scaffolding on the one side, following a trail of minecart tracks deeper down. Just the right mood for such a mysterious place, where every little step stirs up some subtle dusty echo into the depths.

One odd thing most the party notices pretty quick, however, dawning in the looks of their perked ears as they keep watch and listen close: even as they descend, there’s no other sounds echoing up from the tunnels.

No miners coming in sight, no sounds of ‘em either. Not a single sharp crack of some pickaxe. And they should be at work this time of day.

Sexy brings up the rear of the group, following Maybe trodding in the middle, and she guides herself with her free hand traced from scaffold to scaffold as she goes. As quiet as she can muster, she calls, “ _Hey… is it okay to talk in here…?_ ”

Yon don’t glance back to answer, keeping his eyes peeled ahead, but he says not nearly that quiet, “Oh, whatever’s going on in here, it can’t be that dangerous. Talk your heart out!”

Quick and deep, Sexy lets that held breath go. But she don’t louden herself too much.

“Okay, um—about what Maybe was saying, about walking into a trap: has that ever happened to you before?”

Yon don’t stop moving, but he thinks it over a second, brings a toe to his chin.

“Yeah, once or twice.”

Maybe don’t worry ‘bout his volume too much either as he says, “ _What?_ ”

“Well, you’re always going to have some bored folks in town looking to stir up trouble now and then, right? And who else are they going to antagonize but the local rescue team? But it always turns out all right—”

Everybody stops.

Some echo breaks through the mine’s eerie quiet after all, some heavy _thwud_ deeper in, like a body smacking against solid rock. Or something less grisly, hope.

The team keeps their steps paused a moment listening to it. Waiting for more such sounds, but none come.

Pearl squeaks real cool, “That’s probably fine.”

Yon grins and lifts his paw flat up before her, and Pearl smacks him a high five for high spirits. Maybe? He don’t say nothing else. Sexy? Just ain’t smiling so easy no more, looks like.

Team keeps moving, anyway, not much point in staying still so long. They follow the minecart tracks—now and then them tracks splits off just like the tunnels do, winding down who knows which other dark passages, so Yon just leads everybody down the right-side path of the tracks whenever they do split.

“Just something you learn growing up around here, since it’s mostly kids who come exploring here without a map,” he says. “Our client probably took this route. Or hopefully!”

It’s something else wandering eyes notice, too, pretty soon. Deeper they go, more of these lights on the scaffolding keep flickering, like even these jokers get something’s going on. It’s Maybe and Sexy noticing it pretty quick, glancing up whenever them bulbs wax and wane.

But them lights ain’t the real problem for long.

That _thwud_ ’s back. And more a constant lower thumping with it.

Closer this time, closer and closer and closer now. Less like something grisly and more like a rattling in the earth, and by the rhythm it’s thudding at, most like footsteps pounding slowly closer. Even Yon puts his guard up now while Pearl perches for attack on his shoulder, and Maybe and Sexy ready what stances they know, too, but none of these brave adventurers got any idea what they’re in for.

Just ahead of them, there’s two more bends in the tunnel, one with the track and one without, and too little room down either to maneuver proper. And whatever’s doing that thumping sounds like it’s right about just beyond one of them.

Maybe crouches his knees extra, ready to spring. Ain’t gon’ get caught out here, not an option. That sort of feeling in his gut. Sexy’s too, and she’s not smiling no more. They’re ready to fight.

And with two more heaviest footsteps yet, the cause of ‘em stomps right around that bend with the tracks and without caution—and, uh, just like that, Maybe’s not the only wide-eyed teammember got to lift his suddenly sweat-drippin’ chin just to take a look at this behemoth.

Seven feet of pure Aggron towers before the team now from around the corner, shoulders wide as an eighteen-wheeler, talkin’ a _big_ momma, big ole, either drooling-down-your-lip hot or pissing-your-pants scary sorts of big, eyes dark like the reaper’s, body of pure metal and muscle like built for god-slayin’ bearing down on this tiny rescue team like—like—

Like she don’t even notice them as she smacks her horned face right into the wall of the tunnel, bouncing harmless off, stumbling, not noticing too much either she just hit an obstacle, not too bothered.

Well—all right, Yon raises both paws peaceably anyway, asks her, “Hello…! Did you, uh, call for rescue, miss?”

This tall-ass lady reacts real quick to that, turns around a little too fast and loses her step, bonks the side of her head back against the wall. But that uprights her well enough another second, and she stays on her feet, eyes a little more like… not right? Ain’t right. Little woozy.

“Ress-cue…?” she drawls, tasting that word like a foreign flavor as it rolls off her tongue.

Yon smiles real careful, moves his paws real, real slow like he don’t want no trouble. Ain’t Pearl or Maybe or Sexy try taking charge from him, this one’s all Yon.

“ _Ress-cue_ ,” he repeats. “Sound familiar? That you?”

This Aggron thinks it over just as good, though it could be most that attention of hers is spent on keeping upright. But she lifts an arm, and Yon at least resists flinching, and this lady points—’bout two directions, that pointed finger sort of drifting in a circle either toward back the way she came or back the way they came.

“She said—that way….”

All righty then, Yon smiles a little better at that. One more careful step closer regardless, and gingerly, he pats another high five up over this lady’s mostly-fist.

“Well, thank you! Buy you a drink sometime, yeah, friend? But we’ve—we’re still on the clock, so we’re going to keep moving right now, all right? Just—moving around you here, okay?”

It’s a cautious process as Yon really tiptoes it around this lady, not much of a berth he can give her in here as he ducks under her arm while she’s keeping up that pointing, whichever direction her giant finger goes. Pearl swings around from on top Yon and waves to the others with wide eyes and tight lips. And with much more a sense of urgency, real quick, like real quick now, Maybe and Sexy hunch underneath that arm too, scrape around the dust and loose little stones, get a move on.

“Is she going to… should we help her anyway?” Sexy whispers ‘round the bend, not raising her voice just too much yet.

And Pearl whispers back real casual, like that weren’t no big, _big_ deal, really, “She’ll be _fi-i-i-ne_.”

Ain’t more than a minute longer before that lady’s thumping fades back to echoes, anyway, and even while Yon’s keeping just as alert for whatever else, his steps are getting cheerier already. One glance back to spare, and he says towards Maybe or Sexy, either one of ‘em, “So what made you want to join up with us, anyway? Looking for a… career, or waiting for a better job opportunity to come along?”

 _Just_ that minute longer, though, Maybe still looks back down the tunnel quick, and says much quieter, “We are _definitely_ walking into a trap somewhere down here, is now the best time for talking about our hopes and dreams? Which, I mean, most of the time I’ll do that whether you want me to or not, but like—”

“We’re not _in_ the trap yet, so best time or not, we’ve still got some!” Yon says.

Maybe sighs, and he looks up toward Sexy to see whether she’s willing to step in—nope, that’s right, she’s smiling and bowing a hand back toward him, like _you first, all yours_.

Not that it takes much trouble squirming at least some bit of a grin out from Maybe’s strained little frown, revving up for whispering all about it.

“I guess you didn’t hear our spiel about it…? Right, this is what Sexy and me have always wanted. Rescue team, rescue missions! This was always it. We kind of, uh, expected it to go different, but—”

Some faltering of that squirmy grin as he says it, keeping it in.

“—it’s still pretty cool so far I guess.”

Something between a chuckle and a sad little coo Yon makes, leading the team toward another bend in the tunnel.

“Aww, sorry to hear part of that. Thirty or forty years ago, I’d say, that’d have been your time! That was when Mystery Dungeon Town really earned its wider-spread reputation, and that time has extremely ended. Now we’re just a really nice town to raise your kids in—for most people—which I think is great!”

But as he takes that first step ‘round the corner, just following the tracks again, not stepping so light as mayhap he should—them cage lights blink off completely.

Who knows how many meters it is they’re underground now, surrounded by that much solid rock, and now closed in on all sides by darkness too.

Less than a second it takes for Sexy to pipe back up, more awestruck than anxious. “A bad guy! Is it a bad guy?”

But that’s the same time it takes for Yon’s tone to turn strangely firmer, hard as steel, and he says clearer, “ _Nobody move_. One thing at a time. We’re going to join paws, okay? Slowly and carefully. We don’t want to get separated.”

But within this darkness, too, there’s a chuckle.

Maybe’s.

Yon might be ‘bout to say something to that, repeat himself, but Maybe says quicker, “Looks like it’s my time—to _shine_. Check this.”

Sharp little sparks shoot instant off from his zigzag tail, quick and hot and bright enough that Sexy and Yon both dart a step clear from him, Pearl flinching with ‘em. Ain’t much—but now that he’s going, he just keeps it up, sparking up into a hazardous little flickering lightbulb all himself, bright enough to snap some moment-to-moment color back into this dim tunnel.

Or dim room, more like. His flashes illuminate real quick that they’ve all just made it into some great natural cavern within the mine, tall and wide and most of that still a dark mystery.

But it surely is a good smug grin on his strobe-lit face again as Maybe says, “That’s the kind of rescue training we got, _bay-bee_.”

Except just beyond their closest vicinity, his sparklight’s bright enough to reveal one more thing out in the greater darkness of the room—a catlike gleam in the eyes of a sleek figure perched above them.

“Hmhmhmhm….”

Through them cascading sparks it’s now revealed there’s some flat-topped boulder dead ahead within the cavern, too, and it’s some dark figure lain proper picturesque on all fours atop it, slim eyes glinting through every spark.

“It _is_ a bad guy!” Sexy says.

Maybe stances right back up, ready for action, tail still going off—but Yon hangs on a second, just scratches his chin looking at that boulder. Pearl does her own thing now, leaping back onto the nearest shoulder can support her, Sexy’s, who catches her just fine.

And their mysterious adversary just chortles one more time.

“Fools! the figure cries, her entire voice a lustrous thing. “You fell for my ploy so easily, like—I don’t know many similes, I won’t embarrass myself—but really, you should be the ones embarrassed! This was even easier than I thought it would—”

Just now Yon surges forward in a single bound, fist first, and he collides the entire force of his body into that boulder in one single punch and splinters the whole damn rock into a baker’s dozen, sending that figure up top it into a shrieking flailing tumble off the side.

“Wait wait _wait_ I’m not done monologuing what the hell wait— _ow_! Jeezus!”

The figure stumbles back to her feet quick and clumsy from down on the cavern floor now, fast as she can to stand all imposing again for how good that works. Rubs the dark outline of her knocked head a second even as she yells, “Have you no etiquette? You’re already surrounded, dammit, quit fighting me before I’ve even explained what a threat I am to you, you assholes!”

“Surrounded?” Yon says, glancing around but staying put again. “So you brought a whole crew after all, huh?”

The figure harrumphs. “Cherry Bomb, flip the lights!”

Them cage lights flash back on, and the team blinks a second for the sudden change before they get a good look at just who they’re facing—a Glaceon, with a snarl to her lips and crouch to her knees, but lithe and groomed and sort of grimy now for all that cavern-floor dirt smattered on her hindside. But all around her and the team both—here’s them miners, lot of ‘em, and every one of ‘em in the same daze as that Aggron back up the tunnel, barely keeping upright for them who have any feet to keep balanced on. None of ‘em in some entrapping circle or nothing. They’re either staring at a rock wall next to some forgotten pickaxe or else wandering in their own little circles, nothing doing.

Maybe cuts the sparks on his tail, no point wasting energy, and he whips his eyes left and right like looking for the next threat, real big brotherly right ahead of Sexy.

And up atop Sexy, Pearl just blinks a couple more times, still adjusting to this proper light as she glances around too. “This doesn’t seem like we’re surrounded.”

“Pah!” the Glaceon spits back, that snarl loosening back up into a finely-tuned smirk. “You think I meant these rubes? Forget about them! They’re meant only to stay out of our way.”

And Yon, now that he can see her fine, eases right back up, all that tension in his muscles just letting go. He lowers one paw over his hip and cocks it left, says, “I’ve… seen you around town before, right? A couple of times, I think, but we’ve never met, just passed by on the street. I’m—”

“Oh, I know _all_ about you, Death Yon,” the Glaceon says right over him, that glowering in her eyes the same in her tone. “And you, A Pearl. Hmhmhm… and I know all about your new allies here, too. That’s why _I_ took this mission, after all….”

Smirking just like that, she braces all four paws wide and lifts her chin high and proud, do declares, “Make Me Feel—that’s who I am, pissants, remember the name! But not Remember The Name, it’s Make Me Feel. I’m Make Me Feel. Simultaneously the most dangerous _and_ ravishing of anyone in Rescue Team Beethoven’s Evil Twin!”

Over back with Maybe and Sexy, ‘bout every muscle in the little fella’s face stays put just a second.

“…Of anyone in what?”

“Beethoven’s—really?” Make Me says. “You didn’t hear about us yet? We’re the other team. The second team. Rescue Team Beethoven’s Evil Twin, the other one. No one told—? Dullard.”

Sexy thinks it over a longer second, not as sure yet what kind of feeling she’s feeling.

“The other rescue team… is the bad guys?”

Maybe don’t take so long to holler back toward Yon, “The bored folks antagonizing the local rescue team is the _other_ local rescue team?”

Yon looks back with an easy shrug, can’t do nothing ‘bout it now. Just how it is. No helping it!

At least Pearl says from behind him now, just that little distracted in general by glancing so often at Make Me, “Um—yeah. We never get into anything serious, but all their members who we’ve met before don’t get along with us, for some reason. We didn’t do anything to them!”

Make Me barks the prettiest laugh can be barked, says, “ _Ha_! It’s simple: in order for one team to reign the superior, the other must lose—whatever the others are after, that’s my own prerogative! And so today, you _shall_ lose.”

Sexy cocks her head. “But… why does one team have to be superior?”

“Because I wanna _win_ something!”

Besides them, Yon’s got his focus on the rest of the folks in here now. Still eased up, but he glances this way and that at the rest of these pokemons in sight. Not too quiet not to be overheard, he says back toward his teammates, “That Cherry Bomb guy is probably disguised as one of these miners. I bet he was the one to confuse them, too. Watch out for a sneak attack.”

Make Me gives him back a good chortle, nice and villainous, not charging at nobody still. She says, “Cherry Bomb isn’t the magnificent threat in front of you right now, fool, don’t lose your focus! Don’t worry, you won’t have to fight them _or_ the miners to get to me….”

Now she glances at Sexy a second, looks her up and down. Licks her lips left to right, nice and slow.

“—But you will have to fight _someone_ to get to me.”

Sexy looks right back at her, and she only gasps. Realizes it too late, but she cries out that vital warning—

“Watch out! She’s a queer-coded bad guy!”

“And I hear _you’re_ a lesbian!” Make Me snickers, and she rears back before even Yon can do something about it. “Now fall victim to my Attract, fool!”

Too fast to counter, Make Me stretches two opposite legs far and lithe, curls another up to her chest like some magazine model—she vogues _hard_. Pinkish-purple rings emit fast and wobbly from her body right toward Sexy, throbbing a sort of _wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh_ through the cavern as they splash into a critical hit over Sexy’s sharp red thematic heart-thing, staggering her in an instant.

Sexy barely catches herself before she falls, dropping her and Maybe’s suitcase with a clatter over the cavern floor, but that sudden stagger is enough to careen Pearl right off her shoulder with a precious li’l terrified squeak—before catching a quicker-reflexed grip on Sexy’s hand down below, eight legs clinging tight to three out of three big ole fingers.

With some more genuine alarm, looking back up toward her, Maybe says, “You—you good, li’l sis? Talk it out, you all right? What’s up?”

Looking closer, though—no, don’t look like she’s all right at all. As Sexy lifts her gaze again, there’s something mighty different about it. From where Maybe stands, that ain’t no look in her eyes he’s ever used to seeing. It’s something like… no, he’s never seen that look before. Pearl stares up at it just the same, and she—well….

Sexy, at least, just mutters, “I don’t… think… I resisted it, big brother….”

And from over where she stands tall and proud again, Make Me barks another fine feline cackle. “Too easy! And now that you’re under my spell, you’re forced to obey me completely! Attack them, my beautiful mindslave, and win me the day!”

Now at this point, here’s the thing: Sexy do not do that.

What Sexy does do is stagger closer toward Make Me, and that strange look in her eye grows sharper and slimmer—and for this kind of look slinking over Sexy’s face, from how Pearl peeks up at it from below the whole way, still clinging on to her hand, would make anybody think spiders can really blush. They can’t, but right now, _damn_ , girl.

“ _Nice_ ,” the littlest rescuer whispers up.

And Sexy just purrs over toward where she keeps staggering, “You said it was Make Me Feel, right…?”

Make Me kind of shuts up a second here, freezes mid-cackle. That wide-eyed sort of pause. “Eh? Yes, now—what are you doing? Why aren’t you—?”

This much closer, passing by Yon where he’s just sort of watched real placid this whole time—it’s real quick now that Sexy slinks up over this befuddled Glaceon, kneeling and pulling her close, tracing ticklish lines down fuzzy blue ears with the hand that a panting little spider clings to the back of. Directly into her aggressor’s ear, _ju-u-u-st_ like that, Sexy whispers, “You know that’s not how Attract works, right…?”

Anybody watching can tell them automatic little trembles down Make Me’s skin ain’t quite what she was after.

“Eh?”

Pearl barely holds back from breathing too heavy, now.

“ _Just like in my doujins_ ….”

And Sexy takes her stroking of Make Me’s sensitive ear very, very gentle. Don’t want to make her uncomfortable, no. Just that tad softer, Sexy says, “Will you answer me a more important question? Something… more serious?”

“Will I—what? Eh? What?”

“Just how into girls are you, Make Me Feel…?”

“ _My heart isn’t ready!_ ”

Make Me shoves a paw over Sexy’s cheek in another wild flailing, falling over as she thrashes not so good against her victim’s suave caress, yelling back toward her fully conscious audience, “ _Save me_! I’m not ready! You’re on a rescue mission and I’m the one who called for it, so save me! Help! I’m not in love with her, we’re not married, this isn’t right!”

Maybe ain’t really move from his spot since before, and now he’s kind of just watching all that, too? And Yon ain’t moving, he’s fine where he is. Maybe, anyway—he scratches under the front corner of his red bandana, just sort of… well, he does totter up closer to Yon like that. And up beside him, Maybe squeaks as gravelly as he do, “So… neither of them are really consenting now?”

At his deeper natural pitch, Yon says, “I don’t… think so? I don’t think so, no.”

And Maybe says, “I feel bad, but we gotta… we have to break it up, right?”

“ _Do something already_!” Make Me screams, both forepaws mashed right against Sexy’s smooth, unabashed cheek. “She’s kind of hot and somehow I’m not as strong as _he-e-e-r_!”

Yon frowns. Nods.

“Looks like we have no choice.”

He puts back up a firmer expression, fiercer, and crouches like ready for combat.

“Okay, Sex Machine, that’s enough. Step away from the overconfident lesbian!”

Sexy whips a glare back over at Yon, pulls Make Me closer against her as she says, “You’re already married! You can’t have her!”

“What? _You_ can have her, I don’t—well, no, you can’t have her either—just let her go!”

“Just let them kiss first!” Pearl cries, clinging to Sexy like it’s her life she’s hanging on for. “Just let them kiss one time, I’ll burn it into my memory, I won’t ever need it again!”

Yon looks quick back down to Maybe, says quieter, “You’re her brother, and I’ve never seriously faced a Gardevoir before—where should I target to incapacitate her while doing the least possible damage?”

Maybe frowns too, crosses his little arms.

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Her heart.”

“Huh?”

Not waiting for Yon none, Maybe yells, “You got rejected, Sexy! Again. The girl said no, and she’s probably straight anyway. She didn’t know you’d take her flirting seriously! Queer-coded? You already know you’re just hoping beyond hope. And just look at her. This one’s _way_ out of your league anyway, you already know it! You fell for a straight girl again, Sexy. Your gaydar’s busted. Give it up and try again in a week when you’ve quit moping over her.”

Sexy pauses. Real hard.

From the pile on the ground she and Make Me have mostly wrestled themselves into, she breaks though Make Me’s flailed defenses and pushes a hand right over her cheek, takes it, leans their faces _real_ close together. Sexy stares her down eye to eye and just an inch away from lips to lips, and Make Me don’t even breathe for how frozen she’s just got, that single bead of sweat dripping down her cheek and over Sexy’s fingers. Pearl holds her breath from just as close up, refusing to blink.

And just as sudden, Sexy slumps right over Make Me’s ribcage like a ragdoll, no gentle caressin’ with it. Like her muscles give out all at once. Except her arms, which don’t let go of tugging her quarry tighter and tighter into a sort of sad teddy bear hug.

“She’s totally straight…” Sexy whispers to the wind. “I can feel it now…. I’m still useless….”

And from him and Maybe’s safe distance from that, Yon sort of mutters, “That didn’t sound like the least possible damage.”

Well—Pearl sighs like that too, quits holding so hard over Sexy’s hand and skitters instead up her arm, up over her cheek, and strokes that tiny and slow herself, says just about at Sexy’s ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay. You were so close, okay…? I still ship you.”

And Make Me struggles about completely in vain against Sexy’s otherwise limp body weight, no escaping from this deadass pity party floor cuddle. Resists it best she can, sure, and she angles a glare back at the two boys as she hisses, “F-fools! All according to—I a-anticipated this! Obviously. You r-really think I’d come here and arrange all this without a foolproof backup plan? Of course I didn’t!”

Yon don’t look much convinced of such, crossing his arms. And Maybe’s back to just smirking right beside and below him already.

“Listen, it’s over,” Yon says. “Now are you going to wait with these miners to make sure they recover safely, or are you going to leave that to us, too?”

While her knees teeter trying to shove herself out from this real, real sad hug, Make Me clenches her fangs and yells, “ _Cherry Bomb_ —T-minus sixty seconds! _Blow this place to hell!_ ”

Maybe and Yon share about the same face to that, darting them glances right toward each other. Pearl perks out of her consoling business just the same, and with some lack of any squeak she’s the one saying, “Wait what?”

And right now, loud enough for everybody to hear it just fine, there begins somewhere in this cavern a real sharp _tick, tick, tick, tick_. That nasty, insistent kind of ticking down to something even worse.

Maybe gasps, like he gets it just now.

“Voltorb!” he yells. “Right? Never mind the miners, they’re a Voltorb, c’mon, that’s totally who we’re looking for! Or an Electrode! I figured it out!”

“That’s what you—? It’s useless, you’ll never find them in time!” Make Me hisses, straining herself some saying it. “You now— _nrrghhh_ —have under one minute to escape! You see? You’re surrounded by the— _hff, nnnngh_ —cave itself! Run away, or perish under its rubble!”

Yon, though, he pays nobody any mind a second here—perks up one fuzzy ear instead, listens. And he takes a few slow steps around, repositioning, just listening. Then both his ears perk up all the way, and he shoves a declaratory toe toward the farther end of the cavern, and he truly declare, “It’s coming from over there! Behind that—oh, didn’t notice that before—that other, tinier boulder!”

“Okay maybe you will find them in time—but it’s still useless! Flee while we’re— _h-h-h-how is she so strong when she’s so skinny_ —feeling charitable enough to allow it!”

Never minding Make Me, Yon and Maybe and Pearl all take each their own sort of dash up to that much smaller boulder hiding nearly right against the far wall, and with each of their heads poking around it one over the other over the other, here they find their new problem.

Hiding behind the boulder is a shiny—not that kind—little Magnemite, chrome plating bright and clear under the nearest caged bulbs, one of which is already wound up in a tiny copper wire coiled down around the Magnemite’s left magnet. Little pokemon’s hovering up and down barely over the ground, staring back up at the team with a real friendly look in their bright round eye. Staticky and stuttery, kind of weirdly deep, they chirp, “ _Hello_ – I’m – _Cher-ree Bo-o-mb!_ ”

Maybe mutters first, “Okay, fine, whatever.”

Loud ole kitchen timer’s set up right next to ‘em, too, the kind it just takes a bonk on top to get started, and it’s ticking down from about forty-five seconds left. There’s the trick to their shenanigans.

Except besides that timer, there’s one more copper wire strung up from Cherry Bomb’s right magnet to a whole stack of dynamite, as in pure T.N.T.

Don’t Yon nor Maybe nor Pearl actually proper greet this magnet back.

“Oh my god, those are _real_!” Yon hollers. “Get away from that, you’ll die too, this isn’t a joke anymore!”

Same as before, Cherry Bomb chirps back up to him, “I’m Your – _Hell-_ – _Bo-o-mb!_ ”

Make Me cackles one more time, kind of broken up by little wheezes between as her whole body’s pulled up real vulnerably tight now against Sexy’s drooped self.

“That’s right! If you don’t flee immediately, or if you even think about going for the wires, they’ll bring down this entire… stupid… cave… right on you, and on all these innocent laborers! Just admit it’s your loss and— _mhhhhshe’sactuallyreallywarm_ —run away, and Cherry Bomb will spare you all!”

Poor villain gives one final weak shove, nothing with it to leverage, before she’s collapsed fully and truly into being poor Sexy’s excuse for a teddy bear.

“—And take her— _hff_ —with you, dammit!”

Yon don’t respond none to that either, just stares down this Magnemite. Not getting too close now, he comes around the rock real plain and bends down to rest his paws on his knees, says real friendly, “You wouldn’t, right? You’re not really going to blow those up. Right? Come on. I’ll buy you some ice cream, I know a great place. Let’s go there now. Okay?”

Cherry Bomb blinks now and then, but they do not appear to take him up on that. But ole Yon don’t give up.

“Come on. Please? Because you wouldn’t. Right?”

Cherry Bomb just blinks. That timer ticks on down to twenty-five, about now.

But Pearl, at least, don’t smile so kindly in this situation. She glares.

She comes right on out from peeking around the rock, marches on eight legs on up to Cherry Bomb, not the wires—and slaps them across the cheek hard enough they spin just that inch, blink again real sudden.

Got their full attention now, surely, so Pearl hisses right to their face, “I’m not getting intimidated by another mascot-looking asshole _that_ easily. You’re bluffing. I know a little punk like you isn’t gonna do jack all with those. You don’t have it in you. So either you shimmy those wires off your magnets, or I’ll _rip_ them off. Don’t try me.”

Cherry Bomb matches her gaze wide-eyed, just possibly thinking their options over real careful.

Then that one eye narrows real slim.

“ _Ya_ – Dead – _Little Fool_.”

Pearl whips her own wide eyes back toward her teammate and yells, “I was bluffing, Yon, _do something_!”

Yon’s grin got more a nervous look to it now, some bead of sweat dripping down his brow as he—well, as he glances toward his right, actually, toward something past that wire and bomb.

Cherry Bomb sees that glance, and they whirl around for a look-see themself—to find Maybe already snuck around the other side of the little boulder, planting his little yellow tail smack-dab against that copper wire creeping from the dynamite. He don’t cut it. He just holds real still.

And ignoring Cherry Bomb, he looks right back up to Yon, plain as day, and there ain’t a single care in the tone of his voice as he says, “I’m a lightning rod. Go for it, buddy.”

Cherry Bomb’s eye widens back up real quick, panicky and thin, and it don’t take an instant for their whole body to spark up with current and lash a hot dose of volts down that wire, zapping only into a sharp yellow tail as they cry out just as deep and stuttery, “Ya – _Fool_! – I’m – _Cher-ree Bo-o_ —!”

Yon boinks their lights out with a karate chop, and the little metal pokemon thunks to the ground with a tiny harmless bounce.

And then Maybe turns ‘round and blows on his poor tail, clearing them puffs of gray smoke away before getting to business and grabbing that wire next, taking a sweet few seconds yanking the damn thing loose.

Now that’s the day saved professionally!

Well, while Maybe and Pearl are puffing their chests out real proud about now, whether one or either earned it, Yon diverts his feet toward marching right on around this boulder back over to Make Me and Sexy, the former of which don’t look too glad to see the look on his face now as she tries smiling real sheepish up at him.

“They were _actually_ going to blow that dynamite!” he yells down at her, smacking both his paws over his hips. “That was completely uncalled for! Why would you even plan something like that?”

“We were only bluffing!” Make Me cries now, pretty literally. One of her hind leg’s tangled up under Sexy’s, too, at this point. “Cherry Bomb isn’t _stupid_ , they weren’t really planning to blow it, and we just wanted to _win_ , okay, and I bruise easily—don’t hurt me!”

“We literally saw them spark the line—they tried to kill us all!”

“Well you called their bluff, and they’re very prideful, obviously they’d react badly! That’s your fault! _Please just let me go_ , I’m sorry!”

Yon just about glares a hole through her sweat-streaked skull. But he says calmer now, collecting himself, “After the danger you put all these people under, do you really think we’ll just let you walk out of here freely? Or with just some little anime bonk on the head? Nuh-uh. Not this time.”

Make Me’s quit struggling against her victim by now, and she don’t find the strength just yet for more than watching in horror that stern face bearing down on her—and with Maybe and Pearl coming over to help pry the seductress free, not that Sexy resists too hard no more either, in a minute more Yon’s the one free to punish their villain exactly as she’s earned.

He hoists her on up over his shoulder completely, despite her finding the strength after all for some renewed yelping and flailing, and with a glance around at all these miners, getting their bearings back about now, naturally, Yon turns back toward the exit with Make Me in tow. Not so seductive now as she knocks her forepaws over his back and yells, “No, stop! I don’t deserve this! What are you going to do to me?”

“We’re getting your rescued butt out of here and hitting the tavern for a job well done,” Yon huffs. “And you’re paying.”

“No, that’s not fair! I only drink mineral water, they won’t even have anything to serve me! Let me _go-o-o-o_!”

He don’t. Miners are gon’ be fine now, everybody sees that, so Yon just leads the way right on out of here in that kind of fashion.

Right behind him, Sexy’s climbed back to her feet with Maybe’s help, mostly, and Pearl just hitches a ride on the spurned lover’s slumped shoulder again as Maybe holds her hand and guides her moping self back out the cavern in turn. Got to hunch pretty far over to hold his paw, but Sexy follows without any sort of complaint, holding tight to him too. She just sniffs as they leave already.

“I didn’t even get to help with our first rescue, did I….”

Maybe scoffs and squeezes her hand, swings it back and forth some as they go.

“Naw, what? You immobilized the main bad guy, you did great. Totally won us the day, li’l sis.”

Few more steps he leads her on, and then he adds, “Sorry ‘bout your broken heart.”

Sexy looks away, wipes her eyes with the soft crook of her knuckles while Make Me flails and screams in her peripheral vision.

“I don’t think I’m over her yet….”

As they pass, at least, she absently scoops up their suitcase she dropped earlier, not gon’ leave that behind.

And that’s that for the rescue.

As for what else in here? Well, them miners are getting back to work already, not much questioning what stopped ‘em. Got plenty work left to do! And they take care of that dynamite, don’t worry about that. Put that right back somewhere safe. Take care of Cherry Bomb, too, presumably. That one’s just going to need a good ice pack to keep their swelling down, poor little magnet.

And besides that, after making the twists and turns back up the tunnel following them minecart tracks, it don’t take no more proper adventuring for the team to find their way back outside. From this far out in the hills, it’s still a trek back into town, and there’s quite some rowdy conversation most the whole way, but it’s been a long day—by the time they make it back to that same watering hole Maybe, at least, was wondering if they were heading to, it’s already about dark out.

Few more folks out on the streets tonight as they pass. Even in this evening light, lit up some by what spills out from windows and shop doors, all sorts of neighborly strangers are enjoying themselves just fine out now.

Hitting open those old-timey swinging tavern doors, though, with Yon leading everybody inside through some true hustle and bustle in here, first thing even Maybe pays the most notice to is some gentlemanly voice calling out clear, “Ah, my gorgeous husband and his team finally made it back? You kept me waiting.”

Most the tables in here are already taken, but up by the bar, there’s Legend grinning and waving the team over to some empty stools he’s saved for who knows how long.

“You look thirsty. Come tell me all about what happened!”

Well, Yon’s the one smiling now, and he sets a quieted Make Me on one of them stools just the same, leans over the counter to let the tavernkeep know who’s obliging their tab tonight. Maybe’s the one helping Sexy into her own stool on the other end, and so Sexy’s the one folding her arms over the counter and dumping her face into ‘em.

And Maybe—

Well, he clambers up his own stool, too, and takes a look back at the rest of this place.

Yeah, really is a kind of alive tonight, not so dusty and barren no more. Got that lively sort of feel to it. Some rosy-cheeked Sneasel and Psyduck are arm wrestling at the far corner of the bar, and some honest-to-god Texas hold ‘em is going on over two round tables shoved awkward next to each other in the middle of the floor, and that Pelliper messenger’s one of the players, gulping back a tall one. It’s all sorts in here, to be sure.

But after a day like this, after he’s got his little sister sorted out as best she can be right now, after the action’s faded and his adrenaline’s had a chance to take it easy—well, Maybe don’t feel so lively.

He just sits and thinks, mostly.

That was what they do now? Their dream? All that—was that really all that?

Made a joke or two, sure, but is this really that sparkling new life he and his little sister were dreaming about for years? Really dreaming about. Laying back in bed at night and staring at the ceiling for, grinning, couldn’t sleep.

Maybe shifts real slow back toward looking across the counter, and that human woman tavernkeep, same one as he’s met before, is already setting her hands on the counter right across from him. She looks him in the eye no matter that dull look on the rest of his face, and he don’t grin back up at her this time, no such energy left in him.

Lips set thin and long, tone flat as a rag, he just says, “Do you have beer.”

Tavernkeep don’t much seem to notice his tone. She says, “Yup.”

Maybe says, “Can I have a beer.”

Tavernkeep pushes off from the counter and says, “Yup.”

So Maybe rests himself here after all, just about takes the same posture as Sexy. He spies her not having moved an inch, and Pearl’s still with her, patting her shoulder and _there-there_ -ing all she needs for now. And closer to him, Make Me’s figured out how to cross both her forelegs well enough into her own big sulk on her stool, pouting and all, not ordering nothing. And Yon—he and Legend are having a grand ole time already, leaning in and whispering and laughing and drinking.

And wherever else Maybe glances more idly now, there’s only more folks of all sorts being way too obnoxious and drunk for how barely the day’s crawled into night just yet.

But it’s kind of like there’s really a small town in here after all, nobody sipping their drink in the corner all by their lonesome. Feels like a community, at least. Folks gathering to share a good time.

Anyway, it don’t take a minute for the tavernkeep to fill Maybe up a stein and thunk it down dripping over the side in front of him. She don’t expect no thanks, and this time, at least, Maybe don’t bother offering none. He just pulls both his tiny paws ‘round that huge stein, drags it a little closer. Takes a second. Then takes a sip.

That _was_ a rescue, technically. Rescued some folks.

Joined a rescue team. Met some bad guys. Had a real fight, really did save some folks. Got his heart pumping, and that’s no lie.

Flirted with a lady, too. She could come around.

It’s just the tiny little bit, and nobody prolly notices it too much anyway, but… Maybe smiles again. Not a smirk. And just to himself.

Just a li’l.

Then he takes a gulp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for reading! i write these episodes as i have time for them between other distractions, and some episodes will definitely be shorter and some may be longer, so don't worry about having to keep up with this sort of bulk for all of it if you're interested c:


	3. Li'l Snack Break - Part 1 of 1

_Mystery Dungeon Town!!_ Some days it’s a sleepy sort of place, where most all these neighbors still snuggled under their blankets don’t feel like getting out of bed for just that five more minutes. The sort of town where not every day is the same, but some days, most everybody’s got that same day. No helping it.

Please picture bird pokemons’ pleasant whistling slipping out from underneath their apartment windows nearby, right on the east edge of this town where Rescue Team Beethoven’s headquarters sits under that grand ole oak tree by the side of the road, that little stand unattended just currently. And right about now is when our familiar team should be arriving there for work this morning, ready for any outstanding rescue missions come their way that they’re the only ones ready to handle—no matter how many of those five more minutes some of them got this morning.

“That means you too, Maybe—up and at ‘em, come on, up up up!”

Some little rustling in that grand ole tree, several leaves flickering off their tinier branches, and that’s Death Yon talking so loud already to tired ears from somewhere nearby.

“Friggin’… ‘mup, I’m up, leamme ‘lone, I’m comin’….”

Call Me Maybe don’t sound quite like as much of a morning person by that tone.

Some few more seconds now, a few more leaves rustling, and it’s Yon being the first one popping loose down from that tree’s dense foliage—feet first, as he lowers himself and hangs steady from one of them bottom branches before letting go of it, hitting the ground with a good solid _thud_ and an even better smile.

Then it’s Legend Has It’s turn coming down, crawling lower and dangling loose from that branch with a much greater breadth between him and the ground. But don’t worry ‘bout that: in a fine husbandly gesture Yon catches him gently and beautifully, as usual.

Then it’s Sex Machine, and she don’t have no trouble shimmying down on her own, tryin’ and failin’ to hold in that kiddy grin as she dangles low, saying, “You two have such a nice home up here, it’s wonderful! Thank you again for— _mphf_ —letting us stay the night!”

Legend, as Yon sets him back down with a peck on his big fuzzy ear, smiles more kindly up at Sexy, real polite and proper sorts. He says, “Oh, you’re welcome over anytime. Pearl usually takes the guest room, so I’m glad she had no complaint sharing it with you two last night.”

A Pearl, her, yup—she’s descending in her own style, creeping down from that branch with one of them sticky webstrings she got from her butt, setting down light and easy right onto Sexy’s shoulder. There’s where her bristly li’l fur poofs back a little as she shakes out that morning stiffness.

“I only— _mm_ —”

She starts saying that, but then yawns real hard, covers her mouth with the tips of two tiny legs. Wipes her tired eyes after.

“Mmf… I only stay over on some weekdays, though. I still live with my folks and sisters, so that’s where all my—uh, books and stuff are.”

And there’s all the team but one member—our good friend Maybe, who about now ain’t even put his smart red bandana on ‘fore he falls straight down from the tree, splats face first in the middle of everybody else.

He don’t say nothing, but he groans some.

Yon crouches over him and says without too much concern, “You could—you could take the trunk next time, if you want. Just climb down the trunk, right?”

Just barely lifting his face up from the grass and dirt, at least Maybe don’t have to spit nothing as he mumbles, “Trunk. Right. Next time.”

Well, Sexy leans over and helps pull him back to his feet, leaving him to wipe that damp morning dew mess off his front.

“Yeah, though, big thanks for letting us crash,” Maybe says brighter now. “But if we have the time to spare from rescue business today, me and my li’l sis should find our own crib soon, y’know? Someplace private for when either of us—y’know… need that. _Y’know_.”

And while he gets distracted scraping some stubborn blades of grass off his tummy with one paw, clutching his bandana with the other, Sexy leans over toward Legend and Yon next, cups a hand to her mouth she can’t wipe that grin from.

“He means for _kissing girls_.”

“An alien experience, to be sure,” Legend says just as friendly. “But of course, take all the time you need! We wish you the best of luck in that endeavor. Actually—we don’t often get missions two days in a row, so Yonny, would you show them around town some, help them find their options?”

With a real nice salute, Yon says, “Copy that, lover boss! We’ve still got our plans for tonight?”

Legend gives him back that warmer look, sensual. “That we do, darling.”

Pearl, too, whips two of her tiny legs into the air beside Sexy’s cheek, saying, “I can show you around too! I have time! I, um—I need to work my other job a little later, but I have time now!”

She don’t jostle Pearl too much with the motion, but Sexy claps her hands together, grins that inch toward Pearl now. “Would you? We’d really appreciate it! Thank you, Pearl and Yon!”

That’s about all it takes right there. Pearl scratches behind her neck like _shucks_ , and Yon leads the way again toward town with Sexy in tow—Maybe’s just now flicking off the last of his mess, and then gettin’ to tying his bandana back ‘round his neck, and it’s during that he gets to trotting off behind his little sister with a good ole raise of his brow aimed up at Pearl. “Work? Didn’t you say you only worked weekends?”

Pearl pats all her legs around over solid flesh and gives him back his own look, says, “Friday is part of the weekend, dude.”

“Oh, that’s up for _strongly_ worded debate, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am, I’m only twenty!”

“Are you? Are you…?”

Whatever other funnies they get up to telling, the rest of it falls out of earshot from Legend as the rest of the team ambles over into town.

As for Legend—he don’t flip that placard over to “[In]” just yet, either. Little paperwork here at the stand, make sure he’s good and content with that report on yesterday’s activity, make sure he’s got his numbers right… and he’s got an errand today, too.

The sort where it’s nothing the rest of the team need concern themselves with, kind of errand.

But for a second all to himself, he folds his arms and lifts his chin, breathes in that fresh morning air. Good weather like this don’t bother that deep scar over his eye none. Seems this ole town’s in for another warm, pleasant summer, and that’s something Legend can enjoy just fine.

This early, and this direction he’s soon going, it’s just one or two folks on the way he stops to say hi to, asks ‘bout their week, waves goodbye as he gets back to it. Legend swings one arm just that little as he walks into town, that kind of walk, but he got that confident stride in his toes like he’s the guy that arrives exactly when he means to. Other arm’s got one crisp manilla folder tucked underneath.

Next sound, once he’s made his way there, is just the cutest little bell jingling as he braces his shoulder and pushes open the door to his rendezvous spot.

This ain’t exactly the sort of place many other folks in town like to be seen, see. This world is still that kind of place, too, unfortunately, but getting better sometimes.

It’s a pastry sort of shop he strolls on into, the cutesy-est little hole in the wall in town—pink and frilly and literally the waitress on duty is showing off her fuzzy dimples in a fluffy french maid outfit while she chats at the kitchen door with somebody in the back, kind of place. Only five tables in here in all, with that same lily-patterned tablecloth spread over each and a tiny vase of… yellow carnations, in those? But they really are cute.

“Good morning, Legend. I saved you a seat.”

Not the waitress—only one other folk in here, and that’s who Legend smiles at next.

“Good morning, mayor—I’ll take you up on that.”

Mhm, Mayor Akinyele Back. Tights-ish legs crossed one over the other under the table as she takes her sip from a warm coffee, something real sugary just by the smell of it. But they don’t offer any other kind here. Her mega stone’s sat right next to her saucer, anyway, glowing just fine.

Legend climbs himself up into a seat at her table, all right, and has an easier time of that than coming inside in the first place. He settles himself prim and proper just as much, lays his folder down, says, “Right down to business, or something pleasant first?”

Mayor don’t set her cup down, but she lowers it some as she calls over toward the staff, “We’ll take the menus now, please.”

And as that waitress glances over her shoulder, comes on over—the mayor lifts her cup back to her lips as she says to Legend again, “Order first. Then business. My treat.”

Now this waitress prancing on dainty feet right up to their table is a Braixen, her ears even fluffier than that skirt—and once she’s bounced to a halt by their table, holding two menus flat against herself with both paws, by god, she even cocks her smiling face to the right as she greets, “Welcome to Pastry Cafe CupcakKe! I’m so happy to see you again, Mister Legend, welcome back!”

“Oh, thank you, To Ya, it’s good to see you again, too,” Legend says. Got his own gentlemanly smile going, but even his might be outmatched by that peachy grin of hers.

“Our special today is the Duck Duck Mousse served on top of your choice of juicy, house-baked pie,” this waitress says with some exaggerated little wink, laying down a menu for each customer. “It’s always our special, we kind of accidentally printed it on the menus… but it comes highly recommended! And may I get you anything to drink while you decide, Mister Legend?”

Mayor don’t add nothing to the light banter, just sips her coffee while she and Legend open their menus, and Legend says, “Oh, not today, thank you. Don’t think I’ll need the time to decide, either, may I have—hmm. Does a sundae truly count as a pastry these days…? And what exactly makes it ‘deep’?”

The waitress—well, her eyes sparkle a moment, and she lifts her twiggy little wand out from the great fluff of her tail, and she spins around on one heel as she cries softly, “If you wish hard enough, you can turn _a-a-a-nything_ into a pastry! And the dish we serve it in is what’s deep—it has to be, for the whole banana to fit.”

“My goodness,” Legend says. “Well, I’ll take that one, item number four.”

“Okie dokie!” the waitress chirps, tipping her wrists back and hopping her paws up over her chest like a real cutie pie, just incredible—and then turns that look toward the mayor and sort of halts. Like her whole brain’s processing just a second.

Mayor waits patiently, she don’t interrupt, and finally this waitress twitches about a single muscle as she says, “And what would you like, _ma’am_?”

Shuts her menu again already, and the mayor says just as mildly large-in-charge, “I’ll have the ‘CPR But With a Pastry Pun,’ dear.”

“Okie _dokie_ ,” the waitress says as she snatches that menu back a little fast. She takes Legend’s back real gingerly as he hands it over to her, at least, and she simpers as cute as she do before prancing back off toward the kitchen.

But now it’s definitely time to get to business. Down to it.

Legend flaps open that folder of his and scoots it over toward the mayor’s side of the table. Mayor slides it on closer with two fingers, not putting down her coffee just for that. Reads over some, and while she does Legend settles all cozy back into his chair, says, “Another spar with Beethoven’s Evil Twin. Sounds as though they were quite interested in meeting our new teammates as well. I don’t blame them, our town doesn’t get many transplants these days, after all. Quite exciting seeing new faces! But they certainly did act fast.”

“Mm,” mayor mumbles. She flips over to the second page, and even her cool-as-a-cucumber-pokemon brow raises some. “Signing-on bonus? I can’t agree with that.”

“Oh, but they both did a wonderful job on their very first mission!”

“Regardless of reward or available budget, they could take the bonus and leave for a better job with it. Poor precedent.”

“Oh, no, I disagree. From what Yonny tells me, it doesn’t sound as though they want to find any other work. This is all they want. A little further excitement, too, but there’s not really anywhere else to find that in our sleepy town, anyway.”

Legend lays one hand on top the other over the table, leans in just some with that constant smile.

“I think showing those two some extra appreciation will go a very long way to encouraging them in building community here. They seem quite nice like that.”

“Mm,” mayor grunts again. She flips back over through the first page, skims some more. “One more successful mission from the both of them and we can talk again about a bonus.”

Legend sighs, giving her back that little bit of dejection. “Oh, all right, then.”

Mayor don’t let the mood turn sour now, though, even while she keeps skimming. Whether or not it’s related to what she’s glancing over, she says, “Did you personally get a chance to see them battle?”

That perks Legend back up—and he thinks on that one, ho-hums, strokes his chin.

“Somewhat…? They certainly seem practiced in their abilities, the both of them.”

Mayor sips again, eyes glancing this way and that over the pages.

“They could get bored more easily here, then. Does it seem they hope to test their abilities? Looking for a challenge?”

“Hmm. I don’t think I can judge that just yet,” Legend says. “They’re certainly looking to have fun with their job, but I don’t get the impression they really feel the need to prove themselves as stronger than anyone else.”

“Mm,” mayor says. “So we’ll see.”

“Oh—did you give any sort of interview this time? Get to know them yourself a little, get an idea of where it they’re coming from emotionally?”

“Mm?”

Mayor looks back up.

“Did I…? Why would I do that?”

“Well, I—”

Legend hangs on there a second.

“—I don’t know how to answer that, I believe.”

Mayor shrugs some.

“Either they stick with it and I’ll read your reports anyway, or they don’t and it doesn’t matter. I’ll pay them more attention now that they’re signed on. Better if they stick with it. Our town’s two rescue teams need more of a balance lately.”

“And it’s nice to have more coworkers to talk and laugh with!” Legend says. “I can tell you they seem very nice for that so far.”

With a sharp little _fwip_ real sudden, the mayor flips the folder shut and slides it back over some toward Legend with just them same two fingers. She says, “Good. Knowing your congeniality, it’s likely they’ll feel the same.”

Some cutesy pitter-pattering bookends that real nice now, and with a dish in each paw the waitress comes back up to their table real quick. She sets those dishes down pristine, one gorgeous crystal footed bowl with a banana sundae just barely spilling two driblets of chocolate-glazed strawberry ice cream down one glass side, and one tiny apple tart on a plate.

“Here you go-o-o-o…!” the waitress says, adjusting them dishes’ positions just perfect with one dainty finger—then she sets down a fortune-cookie slip of paper on the mayor’s plate, adjusts that too.

All right then, mayor sets her coffee down and picks that paper up, reads off real simple, “‘What do you call a sweet honey holding a plate of vegetables?’”

Mayor flips the paper over, and Legend and the waitress both wait for it.

“‘A balanced meal.’”

Legend blinks. Once or twice. Corner of that waitress’s mouth, though, cracks sillier and she swivels back and forth at the hips, trying to hold that giggle in.

Well the mayor don’t laugh, per se, but she do cock her expression and squint a little, look over the paper again.

“This isn’t a pastry pun.”

“No one asked for a review!” the waitress snaps immediately. But just as quick she’s right back to demure, turning to her other customer and smiling all sunshiney at him, saying, “Anyway, Mister Legend, it doesn’t mention on the menu, but _this_ dessert—”

She pulls her wand out again, lifts herself to tiptoe on one foot like a ballerina, and taps the tip of her wand twice on Legend’s bowl.

“—this is a _ma-a-a-gic_ dessert! When you eat it, you won’t be hungry _a-a-a-ny_ -more!”

“My god,” Legend says. “Forever?”

“No-o-o-o,” the waitress says. “You’ll still need lunch. Maybe a salad. Could be good. Broccoli, something….”

Beside that whole bit, the mayor sets that good joke down and just watches again. Mostly watches the waitress. Leans her cheek on her fist, like either bemused or intrigued sort of wispy look—while Legend marvels at his meal, scoops his first little spoonful of all that.

And that face he makes as he takes the bite: sublime.

Pats a paw to his cheek as he swallows, and he says, “As delicious as if it came from anime!”

“Aww, thank you so mu-u-u-ch!” the waitress says with a big twirl back and forth, frilly skirt fluttering with her. “I’ll be sure to give the chef your compliments, Mister Legend! Are you _su-u-u-re_ that’s all I can do for you right now? And— _you_ , ma’am…?”

Legend, at least, he just spoons his next bite ready as he says, “Oh, this will certainly be enough for me, To Ya, I surely won’t be hungry anymore after this.”

But the mayor don’t move none for her plate.

No bother as Legend chomps down and coos over his own dish, but between the mayor and waitress, now it’s more like the start of a staring match—except for them mayoral lips already cracking a smile at the start of it.

“I don’t need anything more,” mayor says. She reaches out one hand real smooth toward that waitress’s shoulder. “It’s just that uniform is more precious every time I see it on you—”

In about less than one second the waitress smacks that hand away and stamps one foot, yells, “ _Mom_! I am at _work_! I’m not a kid anymore, could you maybe _not_? Like for once, could you just _don’t_? Is that _theoretically_ possible?”

All right, well, now the mayor withdraws her hand and prolly pretend it don’t sting none as she says real cool, “No child grows too old to be doted on by her mother. I’m just so proud—”

“ _Oh_ my god!” this waitress daughter yells again, rolling her whole head with her eyes. “You literally can’t stop yourself, can you? Like you’re diseased with motherly affection, what the hell! You just— _please_ shut up.”

“That’s true,” mayor says, still smiling some as she takes her fork up from her plate now. “My little girl’s cuteness really has infected me.”

Oh, this Braixen crosses her sleek furry arms and just _groans_ , “The microsecond I have enough cash I’m changing my name and getting my own apartment. _Out_ of this damn town.”

Already chowing down just fine, Legend gulps down his previous bite whole and says, “A new name? Oh, To Ya, you did mention that last time we saw each other, didn’t you? Any good new candidates for the big change?”

To Ya, we’ll call her after all—she takes a second longer this time, but she gets right back to that big smiley business quick and says, “For sure! I’ve been thinking about it a lot! I was kind of leaning toward ‘Help I’m Alive’ before, but now I think I like—”

The sparkles in her eyes light right back up and she spreads her paws apart like revealing a rainbow.

“—’New York, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down’…!”

She lets that sit a second, lets her audience soak it in.

And then she grins all to herself and folds her paws back across her frilly outfitted chest, says, “‘You But’ for short, obvs.”

Right as he’s spooning his next mouthful, Legend _ooh_ s a moment for her, says, “My goodness, excellent choice! It’s quite fitting, I think.”

“Whatever name you like I’ll call you by without fail,” mayor says, hovering her own first bite before taking it, “but if it’s still your birth town you’re planning to move back to, you’d be well served with your current name. It’s traditional there. And very cute.”

“‘X Gon’— _that name_ is not _cute_!” To Ya cries at once, poutin’ again with a truly astonishing flair and shaking her little bundled fists beside her. “Seriously, like, ‘Hey Ya’? ‘Nice To Meet Ya’? ‘Where Ya At’? You had literally seventeen million cuter close options!”

Mayor chews her tart thorough and proper, but it’s just a tiny bite. She swallows quick.

“Your other mother liked it.”

“Oh, Mom’s a pushover and you _know_ it, she liked anything you suggested right up until she divorced you!”

Legend chokes a second, definitely in the bad way. He stutters through swallowing, “Should you—should we really go there, in this genre…?”

“She’s straight,” mayor says toward her daughter, shrugging slight. “We weren’t compatible anymore. I don’t lament my choice.”

“I’m not ‘ _lamenting_ ,’ Mom, I’m _yelling_ ‘cause I’m the only one in this family capable of raising her voice like _half_ a decibel! _Gawd_!”

A jingle rings out over her, some prolonged little clatter—and in a few seconds more some Sirfetch’d makes his way inside after all, wipes his brow, catches his breath.

Don’t take one more second for To Ya to tuck one paw back up over her chest and call over, “Hi the-e-e-re, _irasshaimase-e-e-e_ , welcome to Pastry Cafe CupcakKe! An adorable little cutie pie will be right with you, okay? And that cutie pie will be none other than _moi_!”

And she leans back in over the table and glares at the mayor, mutters in her very next breath, “When I get out of this town _nothing_ I do is gonna be T-rated anymore, I swear to god. ‘To Ya Bones Down With Her Own Harem of Total Hottie Strangers Both Her Moms Disapprove Of’—look forward to _that_ sequel, why don’tcha?”

Then she smiles and stands up straight, prances off to her new customer taking his seat at the corner table, getting him both his menu and her cutest little next spiel.

Mostly toward Legend, at least, the mayor says quite clear, “That’s not going to be a sequel.”

Legend don’t smile again so soon, but he says real clear too, “It won’t be.”

That folder on the table, anyway—Legend slides it all the way back over to himself, ready to tuck it away again when he leaves. Been tearing through his sundae, so even he’s just about finished with that monster at the same pace as the mayor’s been nibbling through her snack.

But neither of ‘em are done just yet, and it’s a little quiet now, not like that other customer is adding none to the ambiance.

“Death Yon’s been well?” mayor says, adding something, at least.

Legend holds off from his next bite, says, “Oh, yes! He had quite a bit of fun spending time with our new teammates, I think.”

“Mm?” mayor says. “Ah. Yes. Right, do let me know how they turn out.”

“Of course. I’m sure I’ll have many more positive reports of them in the future. And I’ll get Yonny to write up his impressions for next time, too!” Legend says. “He never practices his handwriting and I love it to bits, it’s so—he spends so long on it, but the letters still come out so loopy, I simply love his style.”

“Yes, it’s piss poor,” mayor says. “After the next mission, then—I’d like his additional report on the new members in particular, if he would.”

She says that, but her gaze ain’t so focused on either Legend or her food. Nibbles some again, sure, but mostly she glances over Legend’s shoulder back toward To Ya. Chews even slower than usual for her.

“I shouldn’t be worried, should I…?”

“Worried?” Legend glances back ‘round his chair just a second, makes some abridged _aha_ sound ‘fore he turns back. “Oh, she’ll be fine. Wherever she goes, her future surely looks bright, doesn’t it?”

Mayor don’t really look back at him yet, though. Just smiles past him.

“It’s been rewarding.”

She watches past him longer, then looks back down. Stirs the last crumbled pieces of her tart around her plate.

“If you and Death Yon ever adopt, or whatever avenue you find available, you’ll understand the feeling.”

Legend scoops up the last bit of his goopy banana now and says, “I’m sure that’s so. This time of year I think about it most often. Yonny would make such a wonderful daddy, wouldn’t he?”

“More so than already?”

“Oh, quite.”

Mayor still smiles for a bit, but mostly, she just sighs again. It’s about now she pulls her expression back to vaguely stern, sits up proper, re-crosses her legs the other way under the table. “This meeting was meant to end somewhere more rescue-oriented than where it wound up, clearly. Apologies.”

“Hmm?” Legend mumbles through his impolite mouthful. “Oh, no, no, that’s…”

He pauses a moment, chews slower and slower before finally gulping. He chews on what she’s saying. Then his swirly eyes go wide, scarred one and the other both.

“Ah! Thank you for reminding me!” he says. “I was likely about to leave without asking first—”

He swings an arm around the back of his chair, looks that way he’s angling himself back toward.

“—To Ya? Or You But, whichever you’d prefer, I do have a favor to ask, if I may.”

And that’s some fine timing as To Ya just now takes that other customer’s menu back from him, and both her fuzzy ears perk up before she turns that cutesiest smile right on back toward her first table, hips cocking to one side automatic with it.

“I can do _a-a-a-ll_ sorts of favors, Mister Legend, just tell me what you need!”

Legend smiles that gentlemanly way he do, and he says, “Would you please ask your Evil Twin teammates not to be _too_ harsh with my new recruits? A little scuffling is fine, but from what I heard, that last adventure was about to get quite hairy—in the bad way—if not for some quick thinking at the time.”

To Ya’s expression splashes back down to earth.

“Oh. Them.”

She turns fully back toward her first two customers and pats her free paw over her hip, relaxing it and sighing all big.

“Yeah, fine, whatever, I’ll tell ‘em next time I see any of ‘em. Not like they ever have any decent missions for _me_.”

“I’d quite appreciate it!” Legend says.

To Ya rolls her eyes and saunters off toward the kitchen, and Legend twists back toward his own table, settling himself again as the mayor’s already finished the last bite of her tart. Right now she’s patting her lips tidy wih a napkin from her lap, then setting that next to that slip of paper.

“You’ll have to excuse me, I have two additional appointments before noon,” she says. “Don’t leave a tip, I’ll have that added to my bill after they send it to the office.”

Legend glomps over his last bite of ice cream instead of responding, so he waves her a goodbye instead as she pushes her chair out and stands pretty tall over the whole rest of the place, lifting her hands and brushing her long floppy ears back like cascading some gorgeous locks over her shoulders.

“Pleasure as always, Legend,” she says from her vantage over him. And over toward that door into the kitchen, she calls with another fresh smile, “Be home before eleven, please, dear.”

“ _Mom_! Friggin’ _gawd_!”

Like that, mayor don’t quit smiling as she leans down and takes her mega stone, then makes her way to jingling out the door.

‘Cept as she goes, that door’s jingle starts and stops something more sudden, like getting held open instead of just opening and closing.

“Oh, hey, good seeing you, mayor, have a good one!”

And from that new voice piping up, it don’t take four more seconds for somebody new to wrap their long, fuzzy arms ‘round Legend in his seat and hug him the best kind, warm and cuddly, complete with a growly sort of purring.

Legend settles into a hug like that real quick, but without looking up, he pulls his dangling spoon back out his mouth and gulps down the last of his sundae. And he sure do smile now, saying, “Finished already, darling?”

“Hey there, debonair,” Yon says from above and behind, fingers nuzzling around Legend’s sides. “Sure did. We found Maybe and Sexy some nice places to decide between really fast, and Pearl’s checking those out with them, so I thought I might have just enough time to find you someplace around here, hopefully all alone…. Enjoyed your breakfast, handsome?”

“It was most of exactly what I needed,” Legend says, looking back up now, meeting Yon’s slender gaze with his own. “But not quite all, I suddenly realize.”

Then, that right there is a perfect peck these two share, lips on lips. Precious little _mwah_ , and then, still looking into each other’s eyes—all right, one more.

They got plenty more to do of that, boy howdy, but this ain’t home, so they save the rest all for themselves, now.

A slower pitter-pattering comes up behind them both anyway, and there ain’t got none of the sparklies left in her voice as To Ya says, “Ugh, and you now…? What do _you_ want, Death Yon?”

Now to her, through gritted teeth, Yon just looks over and says extra polite-like, “Just finding my husband to have a nice time with him elsewhere, _X_.”

To Ya growls, but most that rumble stays under her throat. She holds a big flowery plate up in one paw on her way over toward another table, balanced perfect upon every finger—and it don’t teeter none as she swivels in an instant more toward Legend, simpering back into her big dimply smile as she chirps, “Well, it sounds like you two must have some big plans, huh, Mister Legend? Anything _fu-u-u-n_ going on tonight, just you two?”

“We have plans exactly like that, To Ya,” Legend says, setting his spoon back down to wrap both his paws over Yon’s. “Not just the two of us, though—we’ll be having dinner with my parents tonight, a pleasant night in.”

To Ya backs up one second with that plate, stares at either of them like some loons.

“ _Ew_. Why?”

Even Yon just grins, and Legend chuckles some—and his smile slims, but it gets warmer through that sort of look.

“You’ll probably understand someday.”

For her part, for now, To Ya just blows a raspberry.


End file.
